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“Who do think you are?” I mutter.
“I’m that guy.” He throws a thumb back toward our abandoned table. “And the one in front of you. And the one you nearly fucked behind the barn. I know exactly who I am. You know why that is, Carver? Because I’m always me. Unlike you, who has a different persona for every fucking person in your life. You’re like a goddamn chameleon. Any idea what your real color is, Ace?”
That stings because it’s partly true. I’m rarely myself, which makes the real me an apparition I can barely make out. But it hurts mostly because those words had a punch to them. He still despises me. After he told me he saw me, I thought maybe there was something more happening. Although, he did screw with me after that—getting me heated enough to show how much I wanted him, only to mock me. I twisted it to be playful jabbing, bridging our animosity to … dammit. I knew my heart was getting involved.
“I can’t do this with you,” I whisper.
He barks a strained chuckle, arms spread wide to bracket me. “Really? What exactly are we doing? Why don’t you explain it, so I know what you can’t do?”
My hand flies up to my chest, trying to slow my racing heart and the avalanche of thoughts that are about to plummet out of my mouth to a rocky demise. “I don’t know. I’m such an idiot.” In an effort to release some of this pent-up energy, I start pacing in front of him, arms flailing everywhere. “I was drawn to you. God only knows why because you decided who I was before we ever spoke—through no justification, I might add. Maybe that’s what you’re trained to do—view people’s worth by a flimsy paper description. Like a life’s value can be captured in a résumé. In fact, that makes you no different than these plastic guys who want me for votes.”
I plant my feet, glancing up at his astonished gaze. Maybe freaking out is keeping him guessing. Great, not all is lost. “Except at least they’re up-front about why they want me. You just want to mess with my head.”
And my heart.
“Carver.”
He’s staring at me as though I’m deranged, which is hilarious on so many levels since I’m fairly certain the man has ripped out his fair share of tongues and other organs. But, yeah, I’m totally unhinged.
The waiter appears with a fresh glass of wine—that must have been what Liam was signaling to him back at the table. I snatch it from him, hold up my index finger for him to wait, chug the contents, and hand the empty back. He’s about my age, and pity lines his features as he rolls his lips in before scurrying away.
I’m falling apart.
My pacing resumes. Looking into Liam’s muddy-green hazels is too painful, but I need to lay this all out so we can be done. “You told me I made the wrong move, stepping away from you in that elevator, and I was worried I had. Actually, no. I hoped I had. I wanted so badly to be wrong. Even though this can never happen.”
I twist to look at him now because I need to be transparent—for both our sakes. “You can’t be my endgame, and I’m done with one-night trysts with cocky fuckboys.” The words, the truth, stab me in the gut, tears pricking the back of my eyes. “This was such a waste of time. God, what is wrong with me?”
“Come here, Ace.” He grips my elbow, pulling me flush against him, his other arm fastening around my lower back. “I’m sorry. That guy was such a dick. I was pissed and … jealous. So fucking jealous. Let’s start over.” His knuckles graze the column of my throat, so gingerly that my body trembles in his embrace. “Don’t be mad.”
It’s a plea and a demand in one. A dagger.
“I’m not mad.” I don’t think there’s a word for what I am.
“No?” He smiles so big that his dimple heckles me as he glides his hand to the nape of my neck and presses his lips to my forehead. “Your eyes look cold as fuck, baby.”
Still calling me baby, even here. Alone in the shadows.
Even through the shock and anger, my heart is still cracking because I can’t have him.
Maybe I am the insane one.
Or I’m just confused, regretful about my path. Liam was a way out, and I foolishly believed maybe there’d be a chance for something real for me here. I romanticized Ivy’s life—those four complicated men as her family, all fierce and doting on her. And getting Liam’s attention was hard-earned, a challenge. I love challenges. That’s all this was—a Hail Mary pass out of my responsibilities. But he fumbled it. And I can see more clearly now. Playing with him will only lead to unfathomable heartbreak.
“No.” I shake my head and untangle myself from him, inwardly reeling from the loss of his warmth. “I’m indifferent and apologetic. This is on me. I asked you to prove it when there was nothing that you could have done to change the trajectory of my future. Dustin Barclay wouldn’t have been it, no matter what, so we’ll let the mess of this evening go. But one of them will be.”
He drags a hand down his face with a huff, glaring at me as though I’d kicked a puppy. “Why? Why sell yourself to one of those jackasses?” His voice sharpens into a searing bite. “Please, Celeste, explain it to me.”
Because Ben’s gone. This is all he wanted, and he didn’t get any of it. So much died with him. This is all everyone I love is asking of me. It keeps him alive somehow. So, I have to.
I don’t want to share any of that though, so I nail the coffin on this colossal mistake with the one response I’m certain will do it. “It’s the same as the answer to the question you’re always asking me. This is who I am. And that’s the life I want.”
His eyes glue to mine, so much flickering inside them. The color is so intricate and fascinating; it would take a lifetime to pick it apart. Darker rims, a brown starburst in one and some gold flecks in the other, glistering like sea glass. Obscured in a simple glance because that moldavite green reigns supreme at a distance. There’s so much more to him up close.
But it’s the somber disappointment reflected in them that’s eroding me, stripping my bones of the pride I grasp for. The reality I just revealed, lie or not, is both a disillusionment to his hopes and a vindication of his prejudice. His reckoning is as eviscerating as when my family judges me harshly.
No. For some reason, it’s worse.
A disarming decimation.
